by E. C. Myers
“It's more like he discovered them. In our universe, it was just a theory, and not a well-regarded one at that.”
“Here, his ideas were wholly embraced in the 1950s and ‘60s, eventually leading to his development of coheron technology,” Dr. Kim said.
“But the fifties…like I said, he would have been too old,” Jena said.
Nathaniel cleared his throat. “Dr. Kim was talking about Hugh Everett III…the Second.”
“A clone?” Ephraim asked. “You can do that?”
“No,” Zoe said. “An analog.”
Nathaniel smiled. “Head of the class, Z.”
Oh. Now Ephraim knew why he and Zoe were here.
“The original Everett of this universe derived his theory of multiple worlds in 1954,” Nathaniel said. “It was a game changer. The study of parallel universes took off, much in the way NASA did in your universe until the space program was shut down. Dr. Everett founded this Institute to discover proof that his theory was correct.”
Dr. Kim leaned forward. “In 1999, Everett had a minor stroke while delivering a presentation on quantum coherence at a physics symposium. He recovered physically, but people close to him said his mind had been subtly changed. Everett started talking about opening a gateway to parallel universes. He disappeared from public view to work on what he called a ‘coherence generator.’” She glanced at Nathaniel. “This is all before my time here.”
“Everett's colleagues called it ‘Everett's Folly,'” Nathaniel said. “But sixteen years later, he announced that he was close to success. That's where my Ephraim and I came in. We were hired right out of college, along with tens of dozens of other technicians, engineers, and scientists, to complete his prototype of the coheron drive.
“And it worked, sort of. The machine recorded wave patterns that Everett insisted were evidence of other universes. But as for traveling to other worlds…” Nathaniel shook his head. “It was one way only, and the destination was completely random. Everett considered it a failure.”
“He obviously improved on it,” Zoe said. She pointed to the Charon device beside Dr. Kim.
“He revealed the portable coheron drive a year later. It was a huge leap forward in design and functionality,” Nathaniel said. “I still don't know how Everett did it, especially in secret. He was getting so old, I'm not sure he knew either. He was like some kind of savant at that point.
“Ephraim and I were the lucky ones assigned to use the portable coheron drive to study as many other universes as possible, so researchers could analyze their wave patterns and look for connections between quantum coordinates and the amount of variation from our own universe.”
“I didn't join the team until 2024,” Dr. Kim said. “Everett hired me because he wanted a trained psychologist to help him recruit his replacement. He was in pretty good shape for a nintey-three-year-old man who drank and smoke like an undergrad, but he knew his number was coming up. He insisted on operating the Charon device personally, even though it made him terribly ill, and I accompanied him in search of one of his younger analogs in parallel timelines.”
“What happened to the original Everett?” Jena asked.
“He died shortly after we brought his analog back. He's buried in the courtyard.”
“Ew,” Jena said.
“With the help of makeup, and limited public exposure, no one noticed that he'd been replaced with a man nearly fifty years younger,” Dr. Kim said.
“The second Everett was still alive when Nathaniel and Ephraim disappeared. Why didn't he build another Charon device?” Ephraim asked. “And go look for them?”
“He tried,” Dr. Kim said. “But he was determined to develop the technology on his own, without relying on his predecessor's work. Ultimately his failure killed him.”
“Ass,” Zoe said.
“He was a proud man,” Dr. Kim said. “A great man.”
“He's buried downstairs too?” Jena asked.
“It seemed appropriate,” Dr. Kim said.
“That's one word for it,” Zoe said.
“No one knows he's dead,” Nathaniel said.
“The public must assume he's long gone by now,” Jena said. “He'd be, what? Like, one hundred and seven?”
“Every now and then some reporter comes sniffing around for a story, or a physicist with a flashy new idea wants to consult him like he's the Dalai Lama, but the breakthroughs in quantum mechanics aren't happening in this lab anymore. Which means they aren't happening anywhere. Visiting parallel universes doesn't have the same romance it once did. Space is the new hot thing.”
“A little behind the times,” Zoe said.
“So you want us to locate another analog of Hugh Everett and ask him what's going on?” Ephraim asked. “And coincidentally save this Institute from ruin?”
“That's the general idea,” Nathaniel said.
“No way,” Jena said. “We're going to meet Hugh Everett?”
“What do we do?” Zoe asked.
Dr. Kim picked up the controller. “You have to bring him back here. He may not have the same detailed knowledge that his counterparts did, but knowing Hugh, he kept copious notes in his private lab.”
“You haven't read them?” Ephraim asked. “Maybe we should try there first. We might find some answers, something that can help us.”
“His lab is keyed to his genetic imprint,” Nathaniel said.
“Well, let's dig one of him up then,” Zoe said.
Dr. Kim blanched and Nathaniel winced.
“Too soon?” Zoe asked.
“Locks also can be broken or picked,” Jena said.
“But not all locks are rigged to destroy everything inside the room if the wrong person attempts access,” Nathaniel said.
“Who does that?” Zoe said.
“Hugh Everett. He was very protective of his work.”
“There's no other choice. I need Hugh,” Dr. Kim said. She straightened. “We all do. He alone is uniquely qualified to figure out what's going on with the multiverse.”
“There have to be other quantum physicists to consult,” Jena said.
“We've been reaching out to other scientists with what we've observed, but they're either unconcerned or think we're trying to revive interest in our research. The press is buzzing with rumors that Dr. Everett is going to return with some new technology that's going to revolutionize multidimensional travel or quantum computing.”
“We could show them the video,” Jena said.
Dr. Kim shook her head. “I sent a clip to some of our former colleagues. They wouldn't even look at it.”
“Not even Brian?” Nathaniel asked.
“Professor Greene won't return my calls. Unfortunately, video like this is too easily forged these days.”
“Right.” Ephraim shrugged. “Okay. How are we going to find another Everett?”
Nathaniel rested his right arm on the table and leaned forward. The cuff of his shirt dipped into a spot of tomato sauce, but he didn't notice. “We have the coordinates for the universe that Dr. Everett recruited his successor from. He's already gone from there, but if we specify an adjacent universe from the same branch, the reality might be close enough.”
“Shouldn't we recruit an Everett from a universe where he founded an institute like this one?” Ephraim asked.
“The first Everett searched but never discovered another one this far along,” Dr. Kim said. “For some reason, this universe and the LCD are as unique as it gets in the multiverse. You have to find a Hugh who's just old enough to have refined his theory, but young enough to be healthy. He'd be about my age, in his mid-forties.”
“Let's say we find this ideal Everett. Then what?” Ephraim asked.
Dr. Kim walked over to Ephraim and pressed the coin into his hand. He shivered at her touch. “I'll talk to him, convince him to help us.”
“I thought I was going with Ephraim,” Nathaniel said.
“Not this time,” Dr. Kim said.
“If this is because of—”
> She held up a hand. “It has nothing to do with that. I know you're the best trained on the controller, but I'm the best person to talk to Hugh, to convince him to come back here. It's a matter of practicality.”
Zoe stood up. “Wherever Ephraim goes, I go,” she said.
“I'm not staying behind.” Jena jumped up from her seat.
Here we go, Ephraim thought.
Dr. Kim shoved her hands into her lab coat pockets. “Three identical women will attract far too much attention.”
“You mean two identical women, and someone who looks like their mother,” Zoe said.
Dr. Kim's jaw flexed. “Ephraim doesn't need any distractions.”
“Hey,” Ephraim said.
Nathaniel looked bemused. “Maybe it's a good thing I'm getting benched on this one.”
“Do I get a vote in this?” Ephraim asked.
“This is my decision, and it's final,” Dr. Kim said.
Ephraim considered her for a moment. He put the coin down on the table in front of her.
“Then good luck,” he said.
She stared down at it.
“Don't overestimate your importance, Ephraim,” she said. “We can reprogram the coin for another user.”
Ephraim stood and walked around the table. “So I've heard. But if you could do that, then you would have already. Regardless, you know I'm the best person for this job.”
She picked up the coin thoughtfully. Ephraim couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't telling him everything.
“The coin is useless while we're in lockdown,” she said. She flipped it toward him and he caught it. “Without my authorization, none of you will ever see your home universes again.”
“Jena,” Nathaniel said. “Threats don't work with him.”
“You have a funny way of convincing people to help you, Doc,” Ephraim said.
He pocketed the coin. “I don't think a sane person would allow the multiverse to burn itself out just to get her way. And that isn't the kind of person I want watching my back. I'm not going anywhere with you.”
Dr. Kim narrowed her eyes. “This isn't a game, Ephraim.”
“We're deciding the fate of the multiverse with a flip of a coin. Heads or tails, Doc. If that isn't a game, I don't know what is.”
She bowed her head. She started shaking. A moment later, he realized she was laughing.
“That's something Hugh would have said,” she explained. “He treated everything like a game. Or a conquest.” She sighed and smoothed her hair away from her face. She lit another cigarette and stared at the group, her face expressionless.
“All right,” she said. “You can pick two people to go with you. But one of you stays here with me.”
“A hostage?” Zoe asked.
The doctor blew smoke from the side of her mouth. “Not at all. But I can use some help on this end.”
Ephraim watched the scientists working at the tables outside, the people walking past the conference room pretending they weren't curious why their boss was having a meeting with a bunch of teenagers, two of whom looked like her. She had plenty of backup here.
“So it's decided. Be ready to leave this afternoon, Ephraim. Time is of the essence,” Dr. Kim said.
Zoe groaned. “Was that a time travel pun?”
“I've always wanted to say that,” Dr. Kim said.
Jena, Zoe, and Nathaniel looked at Ephraim.
“Well?” Zoe asked.
“Who's going with you?” Jena asked.
Nathaniel raised his hand lazily. “Pick me. Pick me,” he said in a bored voice.
Ephraim glanced at Dr. Kim nervously. She wore a self-satisfied smile. No matter whom he chose, someone would be disappointed or angry with him. He really hated making decisions, especially when every outcome was a bad one.
“I thought the future would be shinier,” Ephraim said from the passenger seat of Nathaniel's old Ford convertible.
The top was down, and the spring day was warm but not unpleasantly hot. They were driving down I-275 South in the year 2037 in order to get to Princeton, New Jersey, 1977. It was better to get there in this universe before shifting with the Charon device; if they did it the other way around, they'd have to get a car or find some other means of transportation from Summerside.
In at least one universe, Dr. Hugh Everett III had been a professor at Princeton University, where he had a lab dedicated to discovering proof of parallel universes. If all went well today, Ephraim and his friends would be the proof he'd been looking for.
“You expected flying cars or something?” Nathaniel snorted. “We still have paper books, you know. And television. Unfortunately, we also have reality TV.”
“I was promised flying cars and jetpacks,” Ephraim said.
“You got alternate universes. Don't be greedy,” Nathaniel said.
Ephraim glanced in the passenger-side mirror. Jena's nose was buried in an eReader she'd borrowed from Dr. Everett's private library in Greystone Manor. She hadn't said a thing since she'd gotten in the car.
Jena had sworn that she'd never give up paper books, but she'd been won over by the eReader's light weight, its inexhaustible power supply (like the controller, it drew power through the air from electromagnetic sources all around them), and the 3-D holographic display that simulated real pages—for the reader. To Ephraim, she seemed to be turning invisible pages, which looked kind of ridiculous.
The real selling point was that Everett had a wide selection of books acquired from hundreds of alternate realities.
Hoping to get her attention, Ephraim twisted around in his seat, pulling against his seat belt.
“What are you reading?” he called over the roar of the car engine.
“Everything!” she shouted.
“I meant, what are you reading now?” Ephraim asked.
“What?” Jena leaned forward.
“Hold on,” Nathaniel said. He pressed a button and the engine cut off.
Ephraim grabbed the dashboard and armrest in panic, but they continued at a steady eighty-eight miles an hour. Nathaniel had only cut off the sound of the engine. It was running on silent now. The only sound came from the wheels on the paved highway and the wind rushing by them.
“That's better,” Nathaniel said.
“What did you do?” Ephraim asked.
“The sound of the engine is just a recording. When I converted the car from gas to electric power, I added it. The law says you need to have it on while you're driving in residential areas so people know a car is coming.” He patted the dashboard affectionately. “Shiny enough for you?”
“This thing's electric?” Ephraim asked. “Sweet.”
That explained why the skies were a clear blue and the air smelled fresher than any Ephraim had ever breathed. It reminded him of the camping trip to Bear Mountain that his dad had taken him on just before he left.
“I'm curious too,” Nathaniel said. “What's so interesting on that screen, Jena?”
“The collected works of the collective Hugh Everetts.” She paused. “Or is it Hughs Everett? At the moment, one of his biographies. You've probably read it already.”
“I'm waiting for the movie,” Nathaniel said.
“It seems like his favorite topic aside from parallel universes was himself,” Jena said. “He has every book about him from multiple universes.” She shoved her windswept hair out of her eyes. “Not that I blame him. He was a fascinating man.”
“Let's hope he still is, somewhere,” Nathaniel said. “And that we can find him and bring him home.”
Nathaniel gunned the engine silently and swerved around a bullet-shaped BMW in front of them, which also drove quietly on the highway. Ephraim found it disturbing how all he heard now were tires on the pavement and the wind rushing past their heads.
Ephraim put his hand on the dashboard and felt the reassuring vibration of the motor. He wondered if that was faked too.
“Thanks for bringing me along for the ride,” Nathaniel said softly.<
br />
“You're the one who's driving,” Ephraim said.
“You know what I mean.”
“Who else would I ask?” Ephraim said.
Nathaniel smiled. “You would have made things easier on yourself if you'd picked the girls.”
“I don't think so.”
“Maybe not.” Nathaniel smiled.
“You have more experience at this kind of thing. And a car,” Ephraim added.
Nathaniel glanced at Jena in the rearview mirror. “Zoe was pretty pissed, huh?”
Ephraim nodded. “I know Dr. Kim is your friend and all, but I don't trust her. She's up to something.” He didn't see why Nathaniel was so loyal to her after she'd left him stranded in another universe for more than a decade.
“That's just the way she is,” Nathaniel said. “She finds it difficult to trust people too, but she has good intentions. I'm sure of it. Is that why you asked Zoe to stay?”
“She trusts the Doc even less than I do. She'll keep an eye on her, and she'll watch our backs.” They needed someone there who had their interests in mind if anything went wrong; if this universe's history was an indication, Dr. Kim wasn't that person.
Ephraim watched Jena in the mirror. “Besides, if I didn't bring my girlfriend with me, I'd really be in the doghouse,” he said.
Nathaniel laughed. “You're smarter about women than my Ephraim ever was.”
Jena suddenly leaned forward between the seats, her brow creased with concern.
“Jena, what are you doing?” Ephraim asked. “Put your seat belt back on!”
“Stop the car!” she said.
Nathaniel slowed the car. He half-turned toward Jena in his seat.
“What? What's wrong?” he asked.
“I just realized: We have the wrong coordinates,” she said.
“But we got them straight from the computer,” Nathaniel said. He turned his head back to the road, the wind whipping his hair back. It was starting to thin.
Jena's own hair fanned behind her. “Think about it. We started from the same coordinates the original Hugh used in this universe. He retrieved his analog from a 1977 running on a parallel track, right? And that was when? About twenty years ago, in subjective time?”
Nathaniel nodded thoughtfully. “Oh, shit,” he said.
